


Venn Diagrams

by voleuse



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-04
Updated: 2004-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 06:25:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not what he's looking for, but it's close enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Venn Diagrams

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime between "Soul Purpose" and "You're Welcome."

Over the course of one evening, Lindsey watches Spike plow through two gangs of vampires, subdue a pair of Fyarl demons, and rescue a godawful purse from a scowling, human mugger.

It's a good night out, and he manages not to cringe whenever he calls Spike "champion," or when Spike calls him "Doyle."

He never once, he tells himself, thought of Angel.

At least Spike falls for his version of the truth.

*

 

By the time they get back to the apartment, Spike is practically humming with built-up energy. "Did you see me put that Fyarl through the wall?" He pours himself a sloppy shot of bourbon. Drinks it in one go.

"Yeah." Lindsey takes a seat on the sofa, drapes an arm over the back of it. "It was great."

"Brilliant is what it was." Spike grins at him, and Lindsey shivers. "Never would have found them without you, Doyle."

Lindsey doesn't blink. "We're a good team."

Spike holds their gaze for another minute before he pours himself another drink. "I missed this, y'know."

"Bourbon?"

"Well, yeah," Spike says, "but not just that. I missed the _fight_. The buzz you get after making your way through a mob, wanting a taste of your blood."

"Yeah?"

"I remember when me and Bu--" Spike stutters to a stop, glances at Lindsey before continuing. "When me and Dru got into fights, back in the day, we'd be buzzing from it."

"After you hunted, you mean?"

"No," Spike shakes his head, sits down next to Lindsey. Close. "After we tossed over a crowd of bloody humans, or vampires we didn't like. It'd set her to singing, you know, and we'd dance and shag for days afterwards." He leans his head back, pressing it against the sofa, and Lindsey's arm.

Lindsey manages not to shiver. "Yeah?"

Spike nods, slowly. "Yeah."

"What about now?" Lindsey murmurs, and then his lips are easing over Spike's like blood.

Spike almost purrs against his lips, and he manages not to smirk. Delves his tongue into Spike's mouth and searches for that trace of copper Darla always tasted of, and he imagines Angel might. The way Eve never does.

"Doyle," Spike mumbles against his lips, and he pulls back.

"Don't."

"What?" Spike looks at him, puzzled, and Lindsey tries to shake images of the truth from his mind.

"Just." He realizes there's no good explanation, so he pulls Spike back to him, biting at his bottom lip, then sucking on it until Spike growls and grabs at his ass, grinds their hips together.

Lindsey groans, pulls back and grits his teeth together so the name that threatens to escape, doesn't.

He wonders if Spike is holding back names, too.

Spike's hands are impatient, fumbling about belts and fastenings, and Lindsey decides not to help. Watches Spike's pale hands, stark against their denims. Imagines larger, broader hands pressed against his crotch, and it's all he can do not to thrust into the air.

He rears back, away from Spike, and mostly through surprise, maneuvers him onto his back. Ignoring the started expletives that spill from Spike's lips, he draws Spike's jeans down over his hips, grasps his cock, ivory-cool, and bends his head.

Slides his lips over Spike's cock, and listens as his obscenities round to moans.

Lindsey bobs his head, thinks he's doing this right, if the gasps above are any indication. It's been a while since he's been with anyone but a woman, but it's just like riding a bike. So to speak.

He wonders what women think when they do this, what Eve thinks when she does this for him, her hot little mouth on his own cock, and as fun as that is, he'd rather have this.

Or something like this.

Spike snarls something that he doesn't quite understand, then he grabs his arm, pulls him sideways, and Lindsey parts his lips from Spike's flesh long enough to reposition himself, knees digging into the couch, hips hovering over Spike's face.

Spike takes him into his mouth, and Lindsey revels in the feel of it for a moment before resuming his own task.

It's not what he wants, not quite, this tryst in an apartment he pays for, with a vampire he pretends to call champion. It's close enough, though, and who is he to argue with something that feels so fucking good?

He's close, and Spike's closer, if the splintering of the sofa's arm, where Spike braced his feet, is any indication. He relaxes his jaw, takes as much as he can into his mouth, and is gratified by the sudden, absolute tensing of Spike's body.

Then Spike's coming, bittersalt flooding Lindsey's mouth, and his hips pump wildly. He's desperate for release, but he's not quite there, so--

Lindsey closes his eyes and pretends.

Then he's coming, too, like hellfire and hail, and he wishes three times that illusion was truth.

Then he's rolling off, off Spike's body and off the sofa, and kneeling awkwardly as he readjusts and reclothes himself.

Spike is still sprawled over the sofa, looking smug and sexy and representing everything anyone might fantasize about.

_Wrong vampire_, Lindsey's mind tells him. He ignores it.

"Good night out, eh, Doyle?" Spike's voice is a satisfied purr. It does nothing for Lindsey.

"Not a bad one," he replies, and he stands. Walks to the door.

"We should do it again sometime," Spike calls, as he sits up, walks to the kitchen. Pours himself another shot of bourbon, and drinks it in one go.

Lindsey pauses in front of the closed door, places his hand on the doorknob. Waits.

"We off to help the helpless tomorrow night again?"

"Of course." He looks back over his shoulder. Smiles quietly. "You're the champion."

Spike chuckles as he pours himself another drink, and Lindsey lets himself out.

He doesn't cringe at all.

*

When he gets home, Eve is already there, naked and willing. He sheds his clothes carefully, to avoid smudging the runes, and gets into bed with a sigh.

She, as always, wraps her warm limbs around his body. "Hey, baby."

He kisses her automatically.

"How was your night?"

He manages a smile, groans as her hand wraps around his cock. "Not bad."

"It'll be over soon." She nuzzles his throat, and he knows she's thinking of her own frustrating work. "You'll have everything you want."

He doesn't have an answer for that, so he kisses her instead.


End file.
